And Bond They Will
by the other witch
Summary: Dumbledore wants Severus Snape and Harry Potter to bond. And he is persistent. Beta-read by BearGirl1319, HeartBreakMystique, and Serendipital
1. Chapter 1

"What kind of idea is that, Albus?" Minerva hissed like an angry cat, storming into his office.

"What were you thinking, sending Harry off with Severus? They hate each other! Wake up and accept it already!"

"Now, now, my dear," Albus answered in a tone that he was sure would incense her even further. _Merlin, she was gorgeous when her temper flared up!_ "Come and have tea with me, Minerva. Do you think you could come this way under the mistletoe?"

She didn't let him kiss her – he probably shouldn't have added fuel to the fire - however, after a nice cup of tea and a scone, Minerva listened to his explanation readily enough. Then she sighed.

"You see the good in everyone, Albus," she told him warmly. "And there is a good side in Severus. However, I don't believe that good side is there for Harry."

"I will not be here forever, my dear," Albus told her gently. "I know there will be a new war, it will start sooner than we would like, and it could take years for it to end. I will be lucky if I am here to see Voldemort's demise. If Harry survives, he will need someone to guide him, someone who understands darkness, but who has turned his head from it."

ssSSss

Severus gritted his teeth for the umpteenth time that evening. Albus – as much as Severus loved him – was a wicked old man. Severus should have been more wary when Albus had praised him last night. He should have been twice as wary when Albus had given him a house. A house! What kind of a Christmas present was that? A house was the traditional present that one's father gave to their sons. Albus couldn't have shown more clearly how highly he thought of Severus.

Of course, after being given a present of that magnitude, Severus couldn't have refused the man anything, could he? Even taking in a guest for the Christmas holiday, even if said guest was Potter. Especially when Albus had made it clear the house was Severus', had he taken Potter in or not.

"There are reasons why I don't want to send young Harry to his relatives. You are one of a few of my trusted people who are able to keep him safe. Nonetheless, if you decide not to take him in, I will, of course, respect your decision."

Severus didn't really have a choice, did he?

ssSSss

Harry swallowed thickly. He had been prepared to spend Christmas at Hogwarts, as usual. Of course, he had been sad that both Hermione and Ron were leaving this year, but still it was ten thousand times better than staying at the Dursley's. Scratch that, a million times better.

Only, this morning, Dumbledore had informed Harry that he was going to be staying at Snape's house instead, no discussion. Harry was out of the Headmaster's office in no time and the stern _'Do try not__ to__ provoke your professor, Harry.'_ ringing in his ears.

So here he was, waiting at the front gates in darkness, shivering in the cold Scottish wind, waiting for Snape to show up. _Not provoking Snape,_wasn't that rich? Everything about Harry had been provoking Snape since they had met for the first time.

This was going to be the longest two weeks ever. Harry sighed. He hoped that the Professor had a really big house, so that Harry could hide somewhere and stay out of Snape's way.

ssSSss

Severus wished Albus had given him the house one day earlier. He was supposed to bring Potter, and Severus didn't know the exact location, which ruled out Apparation, not to mention side-Apparation of the brat. The house wasn't joined to the Floo network; Severus didn't have a Portkey; and he didn't want to take the Knight Bus. That left him with the use of a broomstick. What a joy. At least it wasn't snowing tonight.

At least Potter had already been waiting for him, for once being on time. Severus nodded at him coldly. He took out his wand and shrunk Potter's rucksack. It was rather small to begin with, Severus thought critically, considering that it was supposed to carry possessions for two weeks. He guessed Potter omitted bringing his school books and other utensils needed for his homework. How typical.

"Pocket this," Severus handed Potter back the now toy-sized bag. "On your broom, Potter. Keep close to me. No crazy Quidditch maneuvers or running away." _Or else,_ sounded unvoiced very clearly in to the night.

Potter nodded and mounted his broom. For once, he decided to be obedient, Severus noticed. He stopped paying attention to Potter, and turned around to begin to navigate back towards the house, _h__is_ house.

Severus wondered what the building would be like. It was supposed to meet his needs, Dumbledore had said, not far away from Hogwarts, completely hidden in nature and with the addition of a potion lab.

Dumbledore's directions were simple and to the point. No more than two miles away from the castle, very near to a cliff, there it was, sitting like a dark matchbox in the plains of snow. His house, given to him by Albus. Severus turned his broom downward and slowly he began to descend. A warm feeling was spreading through him. He felt wonderful.

Soon they were standing in front of the house. He was eager to go inside and explore. His very own house! If only he were here by himself. Severus frowned. There was no way Severus was going to let Potter spoil his first meeting with his house.

He opened the front door, and ordered, "Stay here!"

He shut the door, locking it with a simple spell from inside, because honestly, could he trust Potter to obey a simple order? Most certainly not.

ssSSss

Great! It was fucking great. What a freaking perfect holiday! First, Harry was freezing whilst waiting for Snape, then freezing some more on a broomstick – honestly, which person other than Oliver would be crazy enough to fly in this weather? Snape was, apparently, and now Harry was freezing again, in front of Snape's door like an unwanted drunk in front of a supermarket.

Harry supposed that Snape was trying to teach him a lesson. Apparently, the punishment for angering Snape was being left outside to freeze. Harry wondered how long Snape was going to wait to be sure Harry understood the lesson.

After something that felt like eternity, but probably was about ten minutes, Snape reappeared. Harry swallowed nervously. Now he would be invited in, threatened, and then probably sent to bed. The last sounded good, actually, even though a snack would be great. Harry had been too nervous to eat at dinner tonight.

Once inside, Harry blinked in the light. He was in a semi-big hall, and he could see an open door to a kitchen, and staircase leading upstairs, and a closed door. It was wonderfully warm.

Snape motioned Harry towards the kitchen. Harry noticed that the room was actually a combination between a kitchen, dining room and living room. It wasn't unlike the layout at the Weasley's, but where in the Burrow everything was friendly, warm and shabby, here everything looked brand new, polished to shine, and well, all the shining left a rather cold feeling in Harry. Or maybe he was projecting his feelings of Snape, cold, cold-hearted bastard.

The cold-hearted bastard said only, "This is the kitchen. Now come upstairs, I'll show you your room."

Harry followed him, feeling relieved. He hadn't even realized it, but he had been half anticipating Snape to chuck him into a cupboard under the stairs, or some cellar variation of it.

The room was rather spacey, bigger than Dudley's room, Harry was glad to notice. Again, it was fully and tastefully furnished, but had that eerie unlived-in feeling just as the kitchen had had. It made sense, of course. It was a guest room, and who of their own free will would come and be Snape's guest?

"Take out your luggage," the man ordered, and when Harry obeyed, he un-shrunk Harry's bag.

Then, Snape informed him, "This room will be yours for the next two weeks. Tidy it or not, live in a mess if you want to, but don't you dare do any damage to the room. There will not be a single scratch on the walls, furniture or floor at the end of your stay, or you will be a very sorry boy."

As rules went, this one was okay with Harry. He wasn't any kind of hooligan, even if Snape apparently thought he was. The man probably expected him to carve his name into the furniture with a knife. Harry smirked inwardly. He was careful to keep his head down, so that Snape couldn't read his expression.

His 'host' continued, "We will be delivered food from Hogwarts. If you are hungry, call 'Lana', and the House-Elf will appear to tend to you."

No starving! Harry felt like having a little victory dance. He was surprised Snape hadn't said something about not abusing the House-Elf by calling him too often, but of course it wouldn't be Snape to care about the mistreatment of Elves.

"You are not restricted to your room, Potter, but the less I see of you the better," Snape laid down the third rule, which Harry couldn't agree with more. The less he saw of the Potions Master, the bigger the chances of getting out alive from this cold place. Did that mean that Snape wouldn't force him to slave in his Potions lab, or some other torture?

"Now come and see where the bathroom is" Snape led him towards the door to the left of Harry's room. Then he pointed to two other doors, "my bedroom and my workroom are strictly off limits, Potter, as is my Potions lab in the cellar."

"Yes, sir," Harry voiced his first words since they'd met. He wondered, if his vocal chords would get raspy over the next fourteen days. Then he decided he was being melodramatic, and went to unpack his things, trying to make his room more welcoming.

He realized that Snape had said nothing about going outside. Did that mean that Harry would be shut in all the time? Well, he wasn't going to look for Snape to ask, that was for sure.

ssSSss

Severus went to have a better look at the Potions lab. His new Potions lab. It was empty but for the torches on the walls, a sink, and a huge worktable. Severus sat on the table, and imagined how the lab would look if it was fully furnished. He imagined where he would put cabinets, shelves, equipment, and ingredients. Not that he planned to use it anytime soon, at the earliest it would be next summer before he had the chance. He had, after all, a fine private Potions lab at Hogwarts. During Christmas holidays, Severus didn't plan to do anything other than making a list of the furniture needed and their exact measurements.

With a last, loving glance around, he left the cellar, and headed towards the kitchen. He called the House-Elf to bring him a bowl of fruit salad as an evening snack, and ordered a basket of fresh fruit to always be kept in the kitchen should he need it. Severus doubted Potter ate much fruit, or other healthy food. Well, it wasn't Severus' problem, was it? The boy was thirteen; if he spoilt his stomach, it was the brat's problem. Severus was supposed to keep him safe from outer forces, not from Potter's own stupidity.

ssSSss

Harry unpacked his meager possessions; and decided that the room didn't look any more _his_ that it had looked when he'd first arrived. He should have brought more of his books, perhaps. Now that Harry thought about it, it was probably stupid not to take all of his school books. He would bet Snape would ask as soon as tomorrow morning, if Harry had some homework done already.

Besides, if Harry wasn't very welcome in the rest of the house, and he was forbidden to go outside, he would have way too much time on his hands. Dumbledore forbade him any contact with the rest of the world, which ruled out writing letters – which was a rather dull past time anyway, Harry told himself. More sadly, it also ruled out Christmas presents, Harry would have to exchange them with his friends only after they met at school in January.

Harry felt like anything other than reading or working on his assignments was ruled out.

This was going to be such a boring Christmas, Harry sighed. He decided to take a shower, and go to bed. At the last moment, on a whim, he changed his mind, and headed to the kitchen.

Snape had said Harry was allowed to order food. He decided to go and check if it held true. He felt he needed at least one thing working in his favour. If it turned out that Snape wasn't any better than the Dursleys, Harry was flying right back to Hogwarts and Dumbledore could go screw himself. He wasn't afraid of the escaped Black person, and there couldn't be any other reason why the Headmaster wanted him out of the school.

Harry entered the kitchen in a rather disagreeable mood, but his anger deflated quickly upon finding Snape eating fruit salad. There was something surreal with the sight. The man should drink wine as red as blood, or eat the hottest peppers or something, not fork lazily between pieces of kiwi and pineapples.

Snape glanced at him, but otherwise didn't react to Harry's presence. Harry swallowed. He nearly called for the House-Elf when he spotted a basket full of the nicest apples ever, accompanied with bananas, oranges, and some other kinds of fruits.

"Can I have an apple, sir?" he asked Snape timidly, indicating towards the basket. Then he held his breath.

"Of course," came the disinterested reply. Harry let his breath out.

Harry took the fruit and ate it in silence. In horrible oppressive silence. Snape didn't make a sound, and he didn't spare Harry a single glance. He behaved as if his guest didn't exist at all.

Harry tried to eat the apple as silently as possible. Still, he felt like his chewing was so loud that it could be heard around the whole house. He expected every second for Snape to reprimand him for making disgusting noises. He nearly wished he hadn't come to the kitchen at all. Harry couldn't imagine suffering through such an ordeal three times a day. He wished he could just leave and eat the apple in his room.

Wait a minute! The rules given by Snape said nothing about eating in the kitchen. So, if Harry called the House-Elf and let her bring food to his room, he wouldn't have to see the Potions Master at all.

Snape finished his fruit, glanced at Harry, and left.

Elated by his brilliant idea, Harry relieved the basket of an orange. Whilst peeling it, he was struck by another idea. The House-Elves at Hogwarts were not restricted to the kitchens. Which meant Lana could bring him everything he wanted from his trunk in the Gryffindor dormitory.

Harry grinned. He was going to do all his homework and possible even read his textbooks in advance. Then Harry would have more time for having fun when he got back to school. And Hermione would faint. He grinned.

ssSSss

Christmas Eve came, three days later, and Severus was sitting in his kitchen, about to start the Christmas dinner. The table was set for two, but Potter wasn't there. Severus hadn't met the brat in the kitchen since the first evening. Actually, apart from seeing him a few times when the boy went to the bathroom or back, Severus hadn't seen him at all. It was much better than he had feared. Potter was keeping to himself, and Severus could nearly pretend he was alone in the house.

Severus glanced at the other pair of cutlery, hesitating if he should go and get Potter. He didn't want the brat here, of course, but he couldn't shake off the feeling that Albus would be displeased if he knew. On the other hand, Severus thought defiantly, he was not bound to beg Potter to grace him with his mighty presence. It was dinnertime, there was the cutlery set out for the brat, and food - a feast would be a more precise description - prepared for the two of them. It was Potter's fault if he ignored it all, not Severus'. Dilemma solved, Severus poured himself an aperitif, sipping it slowly, giving Potter a few more minutes to come to dinner before he started.

The boy hadn't showed up; Severus ate in peace, enjoying the silence. It was like getting another present.

Not wanting to go back to cold Spinners' End house, he had been spending his Christmas holidays at Hogwarts, which also meant dealing with noisy dinners with brats who Albus always invited to eat at the teachers' table.

ssSSss

_Ten days gone, four more to go,_ Harry chanted in his head. _Ten days gone, four more to go._

Harry decided to do more push-ups, and sit-ups. After a few days of sitting and lying about, he felt like jumping out of his skin with all the energy pooled up in him. He craved to go outside and have fun in the snow, but he was afraid to approach Snape. The man decided to pretend Harry wasn't there, which was just fine with Harry. He didn't want to risk asking favours of the Potions master, and bring about his wrath. He could easily imagine how the talk would go.

"_Please, Professor, can I go outside?"_

_"Why?" Snape would ask, his black eyes narrowing in suspicion_.

"_Er- just to have some fun."_

"_Fun? I will give you fun. Come to the Potions laboratory..." which would then result in Harry being ordered to cut up huge quantities of some slimy ingredients he could not name._

Or it might go like:

"_Please, Professor, can I go outside?"_

"_What are you planning, Potter?" Snape would frown at him, "You Gryffindors just have to destroy any peaceful moment whenever there is one. Just like your father!"_

"_I just want to play around... in snow... er-" Harry would blush under the disgusted sneer of the teacher._

"_Just how old are you, Potter? Did your brain stop developing at some point in your life? I would say it was rather early on judging by your continual insistence upon acting like a child."_

No, no way was Harry going to ask anything. He had to be grateful for what he had; food, peace, and free time, even if he didn't have anything to do with said time. This, again, brought him back to his books.

His homework was finished a long time ago. He'd revised for all his exams, and had also read several chapters in advance for every subject. He sighed again. How the hell Hermione did this all the time, without any reason he had no idea. Well, at least he could tell Snape that his homework was complete when the man asked him. Harry was sure as hell the man was going to ask, if only for the assumed opportunity that he would be able to ridicule him.

Harry looked pensively at his Transfiguration schoolbook – he had re-read it from the beginning again. He had felt like McGonagall was disappointed with him for not doing better in Transfiguration. He liked the old witch, especially her no-nonsense attitude delivered without the smallest hint of mockery or cruelty. Snape should take lessons!

Harry couldn't force himself to open his Transfiguration book, however. He sighed. Four days. Four days.

Finally, he gave up, and called, "Lana!"

The House-Elf popped in immediately. "What can Lana bring for Master Harry?"

Harry ordered himself a hot chocolate, so as not to appear silly to Lana. The truth was, he just needed to talk to someone, anyone. Lana always agreed to stay and told him odd tidbits about the work at Hogwarts or the life of House-Elves. She knew nothing about politics, Quidditch, or any of the students, the topics Harry was most interested in if he was being honest. It was frustrating, really, but still better than nothing.

Four days to go...

ssSSss

Severus checked for the last time that he had packed everything, and with a last loving look, he left his workroom. He walked to the entrance hall, where Potter was already waiting for him. The boy wore an expression of expectation. What the hell was he expecting? Potter's face had also worn this peculiar expression last night when Severus knocked at the door to his room to inform Potter of what time they were leaving.

Severus shook his head. Who knew what went on inside that swelled head of his? He probably expects accolades for staying out of Severus' way and not ruining his Christmas. Potter was supposed to thank _him_ for his hospitality – not as if Severus expected the brat to have it in him to thank anyone for anything.

"Where's your bag?" Severus asked instead, noticing that Potter had only his broomstick in his hand.

"I sent it with Lana, sir," the boy answered.

_Just as well,_ Severus thought, heading out of the door. Home sweet home. He wondered if he was going to have time to come here before summer, but his Easter was always so busy. Summer it was, probably.

"You are not to be seen when we arrive, Potter," he informed the brat before they mounted their brooms. "We will come during dinner, so students shouldn't see you. You will go to the Headmaster's office, where you shall wait until the Headmaster 'brings you by floo from your relatives'."

He stared at the brat meaningfully, until Potter answered him in the affirmative. The boy was so uncouth!

ssSSss

It was bliss!

Pure bliss! Sure, it was cold and dark, but it was freedom. Harry wanted to fly a few loops and twists, and yell at the top of his lungs, but he didn't dare. He was lucky enough that he had survived two weeks with Snape unscathed! No arguments, no fights, no punishment, not even name-calling.

And the oddest thing was, Snape didn't even go in to inspect Harry's room. Harry had expected him to start checking it inch by inch to see if Harry hadn't done some damage to it!

Last night when Snape knocked on Harry's door, Harry was so sure that Snape had come to berate him. Yet the man only informed him that he was to be at the front door at six sharp tomorrow night, and had left without any insults or checks on tidiness, homework or damage to the room! Talk about a surprise.

Tonight, before they left, it had been the same. Indifference rolled from Snape in waves. He couldn't have ignored Harry more if he had tried. To sum it up, 'holiday Snape' was much more bearable than 'school Snape'.

Harry shrugged. Who cared? It was over and Harry was free! He grinned.

ssSSss

If someone were in the office of the Hogwarts' headmaster, he would see a very discontented current head of the school. Dumbledore was practically pouting. He popped two lemon drops in to his mouth, sighed, and shrugged. Into the silence, he said only, "Of course, there is always summer."


	2. The Hot Potato

Harry took the moving staircase to Dumbledore's office with a heavy heart. Today was the last day of the school year, and Harry couldn't shake off the memory of the last day before Christmas. Half a year ago, Dumbledore sent him to spend the holiday with Snape. Now, he stood in front of his door and couldn't find the courage to knock. What if the Headmaster sent him to Snape for the whole summer? Granted, the Christmas stay was quite okay - if extremely lonely - but it was only two weeks. Harry couldn't imagine staying hidden in his room for two months. Two months with no one to talk to. Well, if you didn't count a House-Elf, whom you really couldn't converse with, could you?

Harry took a deep breath, gathered the proverbial Gryffindor courage, and knocked. He wished he knew how to pray and whom to send the prayer to.

_Please, don't send me to Snape, please. Let this be something about Sirius. Something good. Freedom for Sirius, home for me. Please, please, please._

"Come in!" Dumbledore's voice sounded.

It did little for Harry's hopes that he found Snape in the Headmaster's office. Snape looked angry and decidedly nonplused at seeing Harry.

"Ah, Harry, good that you joined us. Sit down." He motioned to a chair. "As I have just told Severus, I want you two to spend one more holiday together."

Harry just stared at him, speechless. There it was, his nightmare coming to life. Two months locked inside, slowly turning mad with loneliness. No contact with anyone, not even any letters from his friends, or birthday presents.

"And I have just told you _no_, Albus," Snape's furious voice interrupted Harry's musings.

Harry swallowed. He hoped Snape won this argument, or Harry was as good as dead. He wondered if he should feel hurt that Snape so blatantly refused to have him. Harry didn't, though. Snape never liked him, never bothered to pretend that he did, and Harry was the same. The Headmaster, on the other hand... Why didn't Dumbledore take Harry?

"Severus..." Albus started, only to be cut short.

"Don't 'Severus' me!" the man shouted. "I took him for Christmas. Send him with someone else this time. Tell Minerva to take him."

_McGonagall? _Harry mused. He wondered what it would be like to spend summer with the elder witch. It sounded okay. Lots of homework, he guessed. He bet McGonagall would let him go outside and fly, though. She was so keen on Gryffindor winning the Quidditch matches after all.

"Now, Severus, you know Minerva's mother is dying. It's unlikely that she will see the end of summer." Albus admonished, and Snape averted his eyes. Harry would enjoy Snape's shame, had he not been so shocked. Poor McGonagal. Now that he thought about it, she had been a bit depressed-looking lately. Harry felt ashamed. He never thought about her like about a person, with family and troubles of her own.

"The Weasleys, then. Hell, I will pay them if they cannot afford it!"

_Okay, _Harry thought, _that _stung. For some reason, Snape willing to pay someone for keeping him felt much worse than Snape not wanting him.

"Too obvious, Severus. And besides, Molly will have her hands full, now that Artur will rarely be at home.," Dumbledore reasoned.

"Pomona," Snape tried again. He left his seat and now was pacing around Dumbledore's office. The Headmaster, on the other hand, looked relaxed, and he contentedly sucked on a lemon drop. He was obviously sure he would win this argument.

"Pomona spends summers with her broad family full of babies, toddlers, and children. She would never endanger them," Dumbledore said gravely, at least for his standards.

_Okay, _Harry felt a stir of anger for the first time. _So I am a security problem, the hot potato that burns any hands trying to keep it. Do rub in it, why don't you!_

"You keep him, then!" Snape stopped his pacing just in front of Dumbledore's table. His hair obscured his face, so Harry could only guess what expression it wore.

_Yes, _Harry thought, _why doesn't Dumbledore want me? It can't be for fear of becoming a target._

"You cannot be serious, my boy," the old wizard answered, his voice reproving. "As if you didn't realize how many fronts I will have to perform, and the level of organization it will require. And I am not getting any younger."

Harry translated the cryptic words to himself as 'I am too busy to be bothered', with a lame excuse at the end. He felt a sharp pang of betrayal. It wasn't as if Harry was a small child that required much of his guardian's time. He obviously wasn't wanted – by the man who pretended to like him.

"Send Potter to his Muggle relatives. He's spent all his life with them, so why are they now unsuitable?"

Yes, why were the Dursleys unsuitable now? Harry would like to know this as well. He had begged Dumbledore to stay at Hogwarts last year, and the year before, without any luck. Why the change of heart?

Dumbledore brushed it off, deepening Harry's feeling of betrayal. The old wizard said only, "We will not go into that matter now." And that was it. Harry felt as if Dumbledore slapped him.

Snape's black eyes turned to him now. Harry licked his lips nervously. What did Snape want?

"Potter, was it better to spend Christmas with me than with your relatives?" From his teacher's voice it was obvious to Harry that the man expected a negative response. Expected and _wanted _a negative response.

Harry opened his mouth to give Snape what he wanted, but then he closed it again. He swallowed, glued his eyes to the ground, and nodded his head. A lonely Christmas was better than being left behind, locked in the a room with bars in the windows by the people who were supposed to like you. At least Snape didn't lock the door.

Harry thought Snape's head jerked a bit in surprise, but he couldn't be sure. The man's face remained stoic. Maybe he was just imagining things.

There was a short silence.

It didn't take long for Snape to recover. "Send him to Lupin."

Harry thought that the Potions master started sounding a little desperate. It was evident that his list of people who should take Harry was getting thin.

"Remus doesn't have a house. He lives in a very modest apartment," Dumbledore countered easily, to Harry's regret. Pity. Harry liked Lupin a lot. He might have learned a lot about defense, too.

"Black's house." Snape got back to pacing from the windows, to Fawkes' perch, and back.

"Unsuitable at the moment."

Harry felt like he was watching a ping-pong match, but he was the ball.

"I will lend them my house," Snape offered grudgingly. Harry realized what the offer implied - Snape didn't mean to spend the summer at home. Or maybe he wanted to spend the summer at home, but if it meant having Harry there he would rather stay at Hogwarts. Harry was starting to wonder what lengths Snape was willing to go to avoid being burdened with him.

"Certainly not, Severus," Dumbledore said. The two men were staring at each other, and Harry couldn't help but think that they were conversing somehow without making a sound.

"Send him to join Black, then!" Snape threw in desperately. "The mutt is in hiding anyway. They can stay together. You know Black will protect him with his life."

Harry felt like whistling. _Wow. _Snape was even willing to praise Sirius just to get rid of Harry. It equaled to winning ten million Pounds in a lottery, only in negative numbers.

"Now, Severus," the Headmaster reasoned, "Sirius is in hiding for a reason. Even I don't know where he is at the moment."

"You have your ways to find out," Severus accused.

"I won't use them," Dumbledore informed the irate man. He turned to Harry. "Harry, my boy, you wouldn't want to endanger Sirius, would you?"

Harry shook his head. What kind of question was that? Of course he didn't want all the bad guys after Sirius. The Aurors were already after him, so Sirius definitely didn't need to be hunted by the other half of the world as well because of Harry. Snape was crazy to suggest it at all.

Snape paced in silence, his coat making an angry 'swoosh' sound every time he turned. It was painfully obvious that the wizard had run out of suggestions. Equally visible was his unwillingness to give up and yield.

_Why does Dumbledore keep doing this to me? He throws me on people who are angry to have me. Which leads to mistreatment. How __hard was is it to__ understand? _Harry felt like screaming at the old wizard. Yet, he found himself unable to say anything. Dumbledore was set in his decision and no amount of begging was going to change that. Snape was set in his hate, and no amount of goodwill was going to change that. Harry sometimes hated his life.

"Severus," Dumbledore broke the silence, "I'm sorry to remind you that your attempt to get back to your former duty didn't go well."

Harry had no idea what did that mean, but Snape apparently did. The man got even angrier, though Harry wouldn't have thought that possible. He guessed that it was some kind of manipulation from Dumbledore.

After a meaningful pause, the Headmaster continued, "I need your help, Severus. You vowed it to me, and to the... cause."

Harry could see that Snape had lost. There must have been some history behind that statement that Harry wasn't privy to. Snape deflated. Or more precisely, his fight left him, not his anger.

"If you excuse me, Headmaster, I have to go take care of my correspondence. I have a whole summer's worth of plans to cancel, after all," Snape announced, his voice colder than ice.

_Oh, God, _Harry thought in panic. Not only did Snape have to house him, but he had to stay at home because of him. The man was going to kill him for missing his travelling, or Potions conferences, or ingredients hunting, or whatever plans the man might have had.

"Of course, Severus," Albus smiled at him benignly, as if he didn't realize how angry the teacher was. "You may go too, Harry. Good summer to both of you, my boys."

All the way down the moving stairs, Harry could hear the man fuming. Soon, they stood under the round staircase. Harry glanced at Snape, but quickly averted his eyes. The man was beyond furious. Harry wondered if he was going to strike him.

He didn't.

Snape only spat, "We are leaving at ten p.m., Potter."

Harry's head nodded as his subconscious made him react sooner than his brain managed to process it. Survival mode it was.

Snape stalked away. Harry slowly relaxed. Only now did he realised realize his body had instinctively cowed. He took a shuddering breath. Now Snape had the a reason to hate him. Harry was not going to make it through the summer.

Slowly, he calmed down. No, he wasn't being fair to Snape. The teacher didn't hit him even if he was blind with fury. It was more than Uncle Vernon could claim. If Harry stayed out of any mayor troubles, it was improbable that he would manage to infuriate Snape more than today.

And the summer...Okay, there would be food, lots of good food. There would be time to study, to read whatever book he got his hands on – maybe Hermione would lend him some of the numerous books she possessed? And if Harry managed to persuade Snape to let him outside...It would be...do-able.


	3. Hermione, The Trickster

Hermione, the Trickster

Severus stormed towards his dungeons angrily. He longed to reach for his wand. He felt magic tingling on his fingertips. He felt like screaming. Screaming and throwing things and hitting walls and cursing someone - preferably Dumbledore.

For once, he had more plans than just brewing and experimenting in his Potions lab for the summer. This year was meant to be special. Severus wanted to work on one of his dreams, a thing he always wanted and had denied himself for so long.

As Albus rather uncouthly reminded him, Severus' plans to get back to spying on the Dark Lord's followers had failed. The Dark Mark had been growing darker and darker in the last few months. After the Pettigrew fiasco, Severus and Albus had decided it was about time Severus tried to 'reinstate some friendships'. By tentatively trying to do so, Severus had quickly found from Lucius Malfoy that his cover was irreparably blown up. Who knew that the late Quirrell had contacted Lucius after Severus had threatened him?

To be honest, Severus felt rather relieved. He was afraid to go back to spying, enduring torture, and participating in atrocities. As cowardly as it was, Severus had to admit to himself he was glad he wouldn't have to wear the Death Eaters' mask ever again.

Not having to follow the precarious role of a double-agent meant a few changes. He could come true to his Slytherins and try to save as many of them as possible, for example. The first and most important change was, however, that Severus' life expectancy rose by mile. Whilst he would be a target of the Dark side, he should be reasonably safe at Hogwarts. And in his new house, he added to himself warmly. He also should be reasonably safe in Europe, mostly untouched by previous war. People there more readily accepted his dubious past of an abolished spy. In Europe he would try to fulfill his dream.

If only he didn't have to baby-sit Harry Potter!

_What the hell is Albus playing at? _Severus asked himself in frustration for the umpteenth time. _I don't want Potter, and Potter doesn't want __me. So, why__?_

It didn't make any sense to force them together. Severus had noticed how Potter perked up at Lupin, or even Minerva being mentioned as possible guardians. Oh, talking about wolves and cats... there they went.

"Severus," Minerva greeted him with an expression usually saved for dragons contemplating whether or not to roast someone alive.

"You knew!" Severus accused.

"Albus informed me," she admitted. "If it is of any consolation, I tried to discourage him from the plan."

Lupin observed their exchange with incomprehension.

Suddenly, Severus was struck with an idea. He swiftly pulled out his wand and cast a charm to ensure they wouldn't be overheard.

"I have a preposition for you, Lupin." He turned to the freshly sacked werewolf.

Lupin wore a rather resigned expression in his usually irritatingly-friendly face. No doubt he expected being ridiculed. "Yes, Severus?"

"I will be in need of a baby-sitter for a few times during summer," Severus informed him, smirking, "I will be in charge of an unruly child, you understand. I will pay you well."

Minerva, Severus was disappointed to notice, just smiled. Pity. He had hoped to ruffle her fur a little bit. Lupin, also, seemed to be more bewildered than insulted. What a bore!

"I will owl you the date and time," Severus informed him without waiting for the other wizard's affirmation. With that, he strolled towards his dungeon with a parting nod to Minerva. He was sure the witch would take pity on Lupin and explain the situation.

Now in a much better mood, he went to his correspondence. He wouldn't have to cancel all his plans after all. Even better, he would be able to escape Potter's presence whenever he wanted.

ssSSss

Harry waited for Snape, sitting on his trunk with a resigned face, a broomstick in his hand, and a few ideas in his head. The best idea came – surprised, anyone? – from Hermione.

This time, Harry hadn't been told _explicitly _not to share the information about his holiday whereabouts. He knew Dumbledore laid the rule before Christmas and that it was still valid, but he had decided he didn't care and shared with Ron and Hermione. Dumbledore hadn't cared about his feelings either. It had been _so _embarrassing to be thrown on Snape like dirt nobody wanted to have!

Soon enough, the Potions teacher showed up. "Why didn't you send your luggage with Lana this time? Problems with memory at your age? Tsk, tsk."

_Here we go, _Harry thought, resigned to his fate two months of constant belittling. He didn't want to anger the man, though, not now with Hermione's plan to be set in motion. "Sorry, sir."

Soon they were flying, disillusioned by Snape's clever charm. Harry fingered his shrunken trunk in his pocket and cleared his throat. He prayed this worked.

"Professor Snape, I wonder... Er, I would like to ask you if I might plant a few seeds in your garden?" Harry stammered, and then nearly lost courage to continue under Snape's incredulous gaze. He hurried on. "For a Herbology extra credit study, sir."

"You and gardening, Potter?" Snape answered finally, his incredulity swiftly turning to suspicion. "I will decide when I hear your list of the plants."

_Yes! _Harry exclaimed inside his head. He knew the five types of seeds were fast growing plants used for healing potions (or for cooking, in some cases). Snape would have no reason to forbid them.

"Er- that was the first part of the project, to pick up quickly growing things, so I chose parsley, daisy, dead nettle, plantain plantain, and chamomile,." Harry tried his best obedient act on Snape – whose face indicated that it was okay to plant those – and he continued carefully, "The second part of the task is gathering wild growing herbs and comparing them to those I grown."

Harry hold held his breath and waited for the verdict.

Snape's eyes narrowed in suspicion. Harry thought the man might go blind, with how much he was squinting.

"You expect me to let you wander around, Potter? I don't think so. You will keep out of trouble, or else! And besides, I highly doubt you would find parsley growing wild here in the Scottish mountains."

Snape's voice wasn't as cold as it might be, Harry decided, and he tried to push a little. "I would keep near the house, really. Some of the common weeds would surely grow just behind the house. Er- not that I would steal from _your _herb garden."

"There is no garden yet, Potter," Snape informed him with a malicious smirk. "However, as you are so eager to garden so much, maybe I will have you start one."

Harry knew the man expected him to get angry. Why should he be, though? He enjoyed time outside, even if it meant gardening. Seeing the plants grow was pretty satisfying, too, even if they had been just Petunia's flowers. So he shrugged. "Okay. Sir."

Snape's expression gave away the wizard's surprise. He hid it fast enough, though, and to Harry's surprise, he added, "If I am satisfied with your work, I might take you with me when I go gathering plants."

"I'll do my best," Harry promised with relief. His outside time was granted. Remembering who he was talking to, he added quickly, "Sir."

God, did he really just make a deal with the biggest bastard amongst Hogwarts teachers? Did he really just lead a conversation with the overgrown bat of the dungeons? Pity he couldn't contact Hermione to let her know her plan worked.

Soon, they reached their destination. The house really was out in the middle of nowhere, just as Harry remembered it. He could see now– which he couldn't have seen in the winter darkness - that it stood near a rocky sea bay. Harry wondered how much land Snape owned. He couldn't see any fence on any side. Harry wished he could fly around a bit every day, but decided not to ask. Not now.

When inside, Snape turned to him. "You will be staying in the same room. I hope you remember the rules."

"No damage to the room, no going into your rooms, no bothering you, call Lana when hungry, sir." Harry recited, trying to appear as obedient as possible.

From Snape's expression, he could tell he was failing. "Don't anger me, Potter, or you will face my punishment." The wizard warned.

Harry tried hard not to imagine what the punishment might be, and with a heavy heart wondered how long it would take before it was delivered. Everything he did angered Snape, so it wasn't 'if' but 'when' in this case. He turned his eyes towards the polished floor of the front hall with a renewed sense of doom.

Harry expected to be dismissed by Snape, but the man asked, "I suppose you already have the potions needed for your Herbology project, Potter?"

"Er... potions?" Harry stammered. Why the hell he would need potions for Herbology? He guessed the information was in the book Professor Sprout lent him yesterday evening. He of course hadn't read it yet. But he could hardly explain to Snape that the whole 'gardening' plan was a half-baked plot to trick him.

"Ignorant as ever, just as I suspected." The older wizard's lip curled in a derisive manner. "You do realize, Potter, that even some of those fast growing plants you chose won't grow up fast enough to be harvested in time without help of a specific potion."

Harry decided not to answer. He didn't want to acknowledge Snape's insult – which was, by the way, partially valid. Harry hadn't really thought this through. Hell, even Hermione hadn't realized that eight weeks were hardly enough for any plant to mature. Or seven weeks, really, as Harry had to compare them and write the essay.

"Not very sharp, are we, Potter?" Snape teased. "Then, of course, you will need another potion to determine the plants' magical properties to compare the two sets."

_Well, drat, _thought Harry. He wondered if Snape would buy the potions for him if he asked very nicely. He guessed not. The git was probably only telling him all this to forbid Harry going outside, after all. Another of the Slytherin's cruel jokes. Promising him freedom and then taking it away with glee.

"Er... I guess I still can start your herb garden, then," Harry said awkwardly. It didn't help that Snape was staring at him as if he had grown himself a second head. Sure, the man wanted Harry to beg for the potions only to refuse him snidely. Well, Harry wouldn't play his foul game.

"I guess I will go to unpack, then, sir," Harry said in parting, hurrying upstairs.


End file.
